


Give The Devil His Due

by MyBoyBuildsCoffins



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Slavery, Slow Burn, The Pitt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-27 11:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7615852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyBoyBuildsCoffins/pseuds/MyBoyBuildsCoffins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She didn't deserve this fate.<br/>Not here. Not like this.<br/>If people really got what they deserved she would be on the cover of one of those pre-war magazines. In a better world in some grassy paradise smiling while the sun shone down benevolently and she wouldn't have to worry about being hurt by bad men like him.<br/>Too bad what no one really got what they deserved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wrong Place at the Wrong TIme

**Author's Note:**

> I like critiques so feel free to give any in the comments. Enjoy!

Benny hated to do it.

He really did.

It was necessary. She had the platinum chip and he needed it more than she did. Simple as that.

Or so he reasoned.

It didn't _feel_ right though, especially with those dazed baby-blue eyes staring up at him. Poor courier. She didn't know what was going on and he couldn't help but feel that she was a complete sweetheart who really didn't deserve to die tied up and gagged in some desolate graveyard. But then again, did anyone?

Talk about wrong place at the long time.

She'd come right to him. She'd been picking cactus fruit by the roadside, her flowery dress beckoning him closer. She'd even offered him one, smiling and holding it out to him. She'd been stopped short by one of the Khans hitting the poor girl upside the head with a baseball bat.

If he wasn't going straight to hell already he was definitely going now. It wasn't just her eyes, she was gorgeous. She had an old world look about her. Deep red hair in perfect pin curls at her shoulders and full peachy lips. She really must have had a thing for old world fashion what with the dress and bonnet to match. It was like she'd stepped right off the cover of one of those old magazines lying around.

Yep. He was going to hell for sure.

She didn't deserve this fate.

Not here. Not like this.

If people really got what they deserved she _would_ be on the cover of one of those pre-war magazines. In a better world in some grassy paradise smiling while the sun shone down benevolently and she wouldn't have to worry about being hurt by bad men like him.

Too bad what no one really got what they deserved.

A bruise was forming where she'd taken that bat to the head, creeping down her hairline to her left eye. It had dazed her pretty good, probably concussed her. He hoped she wouldn't feel the bullets. She probably wouldn't even know it was coming. 

It wasn't right. Goddamn. He'd never felt this bad about anything he'd _ever_ done, and for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. Guilt wasn't exactly a feeling he was accustomed to, but boy was he feeling it.

He needed some way to make it right. For him at least. Maybe if he explained it to her he'd understand it himself, and maybe be able to sleep tonight.

He knelt down to face her and looked into those sky-colored eyes, one pupil bigger than the other but both focused in on him.

"Khans might kill people without looking them in the face but I ain't a fink, ya dig?" She had her pretty little head cocked to the side and nodded slowly. 

"Sweetheart, don't look at me like that! I don't want to have to off ya, but here I am and there you are. You had the chip and that's what I was after. From where your kneeling this must look like an eighteen carat run of bad luck, but ya have to face it, angel, the game was rigged from the start."

She closed her eyes and nodded again, tragically resigned to her fate. He stood and pulled Maria out of his jacket. 

He cringed as he shot her and everything slowed down. Every awful detail of what he did was burned into his memory.

Those blue eyes snapped shut as the first bullet made contact with her crown that one snapped her head back but the second sent her flying. Red curls streaming into the night, the same color as her blood that spatted the ground, her dress and his jacket. 

He lowered the gun, feeling sick and guilty, he knelt beside her again. Her eyes were open again, fluttering as her blood soaked the earth under her. She looked right at him and it sent lighting through his bones. There was a question in her eyes and he didn't need to hear her speak to know exactly what it was.

_Why?_

He couldn't have answered her even if he wanted to. Why did this angel have to die so that the devil could go free? Why did he even need to shoot her int he first place, and where in the _hell_ was all of this guilt coming from?

Her eyes rolled back and he couldn't her her breathing anymore. He looked to the Khans and they unceremoniously tossed her in that shallow grave. Still not looking at her face like the finks they were. Benny sighed heavily. 

He wasn't going to sleep that night.

 

 

 

 


	2. A Full Recovery

Bonnie woke up all wrapped up tight in a knitted quilt. She had a killer headache and her tongue felt like cotton in her mouth

She sat up cautiously cobalt- blue eyes darting around the room and stopping to rest on the kindly looking man who had a hand on her shoulder pushing her back into the bed.

It took her a second to get what he was saying. 

"Easy now, young lady! You don't want to get up too fast, You took a nasty blow to the head. Not to mention the bullets I had to dig out of you. I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to get up." 

_Bullets?!_

She opened her mouth intending an alarmed reply but all that came out was a choked rasp. The man waited patiently as she gulped one glass down and then brought her another.

She took a moment to catch her breath. Her delicate brows furrowed with worry but she settled on smiling.

"Thank you." She said at last. She took a look around the makeshift infirmary

"So, how long have I been here?" 

The doctor smiled back at the pretty young lady whose resilience astounded him.

"About a week."

She nodded gravely repeating his words back to herself. "And... you wouldn't know how exactly I got to be here, would you sir?"

He frowned unsure if telling her so quickly would overwhelm her.

"Well, young lady our robot pal Victor, dragged you out a shallow grave last week. It looked like you had been jumped for the parcel you were carrying."

She stopped smiling "The platinum chip."

"Something like that, yes." The doctor shined a light in her eyes to check her reactions. So far, so good.

"Let's stark with something easy. Can you tell me your name?"

She held out her hand. "Bonnie Moon, pleasure to meet you, sir."

He shook it and introduced himself as Doc Mitchell.

"What's the last thing you remember, Bonnie?"

She frowned as her brow knit in concentration. "I was on my way to the strip...I had stopped to make lunch, and I'd noticed these Barrel Cactus plants by the road..." She paused a long time after that, trying hard to remember. She shook her head "Nothing after that."

Doc nodded. "Well Bonnie, I've patched you up best I can. I take pride in my needlework but you'd better tell me if I left anything out of place."

She took the mirror somewhat skeptically, but smiled broadly when she beheld her reflection. Not a thing was out of place. Her red hair was still in perfect pin curls and her beauty remained unmarred by any scars, at least none that she could see.

"This is marvelous! Where are the scars?! I don't see them!"

Doc Mitchell motioned her over closer to him and pulled back a section of her hair to reveal a small scar as long as her pinky finger that receded into her hairline. "You can't even see it! This is great, you did a great job." She smiled at him earnestly, "Thank you so much!" She pulled him into a bear hug. He jumped back, surprised, but quickly returned the beauty's embrace.

Doc had her use the vigor tester and was unsurprised by the results. She was an accomplished intellectual with the personal magnetism of a cult leader. He told her that he didn't think she'd have any problem back in the desert but sent her off to Sunny Smiles anyways, to stretch her muscles at least.

 He had gone through her pack to try and find out who exactly she was but ll that he'd found was a copy of  _Paradise Lost,_ a delivery order for the platinum chip, a 10 millimeter with ammo and some caps, but what struck him as strange was a collar for a dog, a collar for a slave and a scrap of fabric he recognized as having once belonged to a vault suit with 101 emblazoned on it in an offensively bright yellow. He didn't question it though, she could keep her secrets and he would keep his.   

He sent her off with a Pip boy 3000 and a new dress. She'd smiled and promised to come back and visit sometime. She skipped merrily down the path to town loading her 10 mil as she went.

 Bonnie went straight to the Saloon as directed by Doc Mitchell and met Sunny Smiles and her charming dog, Cheyenne at the door.

Bonnie held out her hand "Doc Mitchell said you wanted to reacquaint me with the wasteland."

"Sure do." Sunny smiled back at he pretty redhead with the infectious grin. She shook Bonnie's hand and led her out for target practice.

* * *

Sunny's jaw dropped when Bonnie popped off all of the sarsaparilla bottles lined up without a miss.

"Damn girlie! Where'd you learn to shoot like that?" She asked excitedly. Bonnie reloaded the rifle and hung it on her back. 

"well, I just have knack for guns. Always have. You see, I'm a good talker, its just what I do. However, on the rare occasion that I get myself into a situation that I cant talk my way out of, I just let my gun do the talking for me." 

Sunny chuckled, satisfied with the explanation. "Well, I pity the man who shot you then. He's in trouble, whether he knows it or not."

Bonnie's forehead wrinkled up in a way that would have been adorable if not for the confused pain in her eyes.

"I suppose so." She said softly

Sunny raised a quizzical eyebrow. "What do you mean?" 

"Well," said Bonnie. "If I knew who it was, or if I had any recollection of it actually happening I suppose he would be, but since I don't..." She shrugged.

Sunny made a sympathetic face. "What will you do now?"

"I guess I'll head back to the strip." Bonnie nodded like she was agreeing with herself.

"You actually like it there?" Sunny looked surprised.

"I don't like it, I love it. Lots of talkers, bright dancing lights that just pull you in... it's fast and loud." She trailed off and then looked back up at Sunny with that wicked grin. "Its everything you want, you can start out dirt poor, but if you hit it big, its money and glory and glamour. What's not to like?"

Sunny shrugged. "Well, when you put it that way it does sound pretty nice."

Bonnie's lips curled. "Its home."

* * *

Bonnie headed back to the saloon to chat up Trudy as Sunny had suggested but a mean looking Powder-Ganger was already there, making his threats and practically foaming at the mouth. He stormed off when the lady, who Bonnie presumed to be Trudy, told him to get the hell out. Bonnie held up a finger at Trudy and Followed the Powder-Ganger outside. It didn't take very long to get him to leave the town alone (apparently he was after some trader who'd insulted him) and Bonnie convinced him that it wasn't worth it. He just sighed, admitted she was right and left.

Bonnie got quite a thank you from the town and from the trader, Ringo, who'd offered her caps for the intervention.

The full moon was rising in a greenish haze.

"Time to head out." Bonnie said gently into the night.

She was gone when morning came.

 


	3. An Eye For An Eye

Boone had just taken his post up high in the mouth of that gaudy T-Rex in Novac when he saw her through the scope. She's a quite a change from the usual traveler. She wears a pair of mean-looking leather boots, good for walking but better for kicking someone's teeth in. The boots looked sort of funny with her blue dress and bonnet, but Boone's personal favorite piece of her ensemble was the over-sized sheriff's duster she was wearing over the rest of it.

A bit unusual for a sheriff.

A centaur comes up on her as she approaches and he watches as she steps down on its tongues hard with one of her stompers and smashes its head into mush with the other.

Whoever this stranger was, she meant business.

* * *

  Jeanie May Crawford smiled as she greeted the pretty young woman who strolled daintily into the motel.

She had dark under her vast blue eyes. She pulled off her bonnet and signed her name in the logbook with a flourish. _Bonnie Moon_. 

"A pretty girl with a pretty name." Jeanie said sweetly.

Bonnie smiled with a tired look. Bonnie had one of those smiles that instantly became the focal point of the room, endlessly inviting and contagious. Jeanie wanted to dislike her. She was too pretty and she looked to be the type to leave you lonely as soon as the fancy struck her. She wore travelling boots and Jeanie knew she wouldn't stay long.

Bonnie's lips fell into a frown as she handed Jeanie the caps for a room. "I'll feel prettier when I get some sleep." 

Jeanie tried to smile again but as Bonnie set her mouth coldly and looked towards the door she found that she couldn't.

Bonnie's frown was as infectious as her smile.

* * *

Bonnie only slept for an hour before the same dream that had been plaguing her for years shook her from her sleep.

_She's kneeling beneath that ugly rust-colored sky. The collar back around her neck far too tight, choking the life out of her. She could taste the ash in the air and feel her skin peeling off in layers, dying. She has her hands on the collar, clawing at it desperately but her strength is waning and she can't pull it off._

_This time he's not there to save her._

She tried not to dwell on it so she turned away from the wall and found herself staring at her pack sitting on an arm chair across from her. It almost feels like its staring back.

She wasn't sure how long she laid there staring before she got up with a slight sigh and put the pack on her lap. It took some digging and she ended up tossing out a few useless items until she found it at the very bottom. 

It was twisted and burnt. Even if it she had never had to wear it Bonnie couldn't help but feel that it would still be an inherently  _evil_ looking object. As if she'd know that it was an instrument of brutality, or something to be feared at least. The only good memory it held was the moment that he had cut it off of her. 

She ran her fingers over it once more and placed it gently in the bag. She saw Dog Meat's color in the bottom of the pack too. She picked it up and held it close to her chest, a smile gracing her lips as she remembered his bark of happiness and wagging tail as she placed it on him. He had been standing behind her, laughing at Dog Meat's reaction. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and she found that she still missed them every day.

She went outside when it had become apparent that sleep would be too long coming. There didn't seem to be much to see in Novac but the dinosaur caught her eye.

She donned her soft blue dress. Her hair was still setting into pin curls so she wrapped her hair up in a white headscarf with little blue flowers that matched her dress. Her pip boy told her that it was a little after two AM. The gift shop was closed but the door was unlocked so she poked around a bit and herself climbing the staircase to the top.

There was a chill in the air, the Mojave was freezing. It made her miss DC. This land was hostile and wild. She didn't hate it though, it gave her a decent challenge. A new purpose other than crying over _him_. 

The sniper on duty was rather unfriendly. Spinning around and glaring at her over tinted sunglasses. He was an NCR grunt for sure. He just had the look about him. Icy, with that jaded set of his jaw. He'd seen some shit. She had too. Maybe they'd get along. "What's your business up here?"

She pushed past him and bent forward over the edge, staring out at the desert. "My business in Novac or my business up here with you?"

His frown deepened "Both."

She shrugged "Well, I'm here in Novac because I needed some sleep and some ammo. I'm up here because I couldn't _get_ any sleep."  

She turned back to look at him. He tossed a cigarette on the floor and ground it down under his boot. "You should leave." 

She just stared at him, unblinking it was almost hypnotic. It must have worked. "Wait, I need someone I can trust. A stranger who's only here for some sleep is a start."

"You only trust strangers?" 

He took off his sunglasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "My wife was taken by legion slavers. They came when I was on duty, no one saw them come in or leave, and they only took Carla."

She swallowed and looked at him suddenly intense. "Slavers, they... took your wife? Do you want me to find out who did it?" 

That was exactly what he wanted but he wanted to take the son of a bitch out. She was fine with that. 

He offered a reward as she turned away. She refused. "With slavery, its fucking personal."

* * *

 

It didn't take Bonnie long, after looking in on Manny Vargas she decided on the motel owner. The floor safe was suspicious on its own and she was thankful he'd taught her how to pick locks.

The bill of sale made her blood boil. Putting a price on the life of a woman and that of her unborn child brought back memories that were best left undisturbed. She took it, put it in her pocket and headed off to find Jeanie May Crawford.

The old woman was sleeping. Bonnie grabbed her by the hair and stuffed the headscarf in her goddamned slave-trading mouth. She dragged her with a fist full of her oily gray hair out in front of the dinosaur threw her to the ground and covered up her still-setting hair with Boone's beret. She took one step back and yanked her scarf away before Jeanie May's head promptly exploded. 

She spit on the corpse.

* * *

 

Boone was grateful for what she did but Bonnie could see that the sniper was still on the fast track to self-destruction.

He told her it wouldn't end well but she was convincing so he came with her anyways, it was her smile. Sort of reminded him of Carla. They left as the sun rose and Bonnie hummed softly as she brushed her hair into submission.

Boone found something incredibly hopeful in that sound.

 


	4. Ring-a-ding!

Benny came down to the Aces when he heard from one of the boys that some gorgeous doll was down there and he just  _had_ to see her. He wasn't expecting much. The chairmen may have been the coolest cats ever to walk the strip but most of the boys wouldn't know a quality broad if she came up and bit em' in the ass. He went anyways because he hadn't had enough fun lately. Every time he tried to sleep he heard the crack of Maria firing a bullet into the pretty face of the courier.

He had no goddamn idea why he couldn't just get over it. He'd looked that doll in the eyes and hashed it out with her. Face to face like a chairman, like a Boot Rider. New Vegas was just too important to let little things like that get in its way. The city _needed_ him. It wasn't getting anywhere with House at the helm and it was just too grand a city to go to waste like that. He couldn't let that happen. It didn't matter that those baby blue eyes still haunted his sleep. 

He walked in and stopped dead. 

It couldn't be  _her_.

 _Her_ there in that shimmering dress, laughing and dancing with Swank while the band played at full swing.

Swank catches his eye and bends to whisper something to the courier, who was, as far as he was concerned, recently deceased.

This was just goddamned _bizarre._ It occurred to him that he had happened to get some shut-eye and this was some sick dream he was having on account of all the thinking he'd been doing on the courier lately but that would have just been too easy.

She looked up at him. Saw him and smiled. He was paralyzed. Swank said something else to her and she waved, gave a little salute and went right back to dancing.

Benny decided that this was just way too much to process without a drink in his hand so he sat down at the bar and ordered his usual scotch on the rocks and turned to study the captivating beauty still dancing her heart out over there. _It has to be her,_ he thought,  _that same soft red hair and those bright blue eyes. i must need to work on my aim._  

She seemed like she was just as happy as a pussycat could be in the Tops and the strangest part was, she hadn't approached _him_ at all. Either this was one stone cold bitch who just didn't _mind_ nearly getting her brains blown out or the poor broad just didn't remember who did it. He shuddered, considering that maybe she did know, and did mind. She could just be biding her time, planning revenge. He turned back around to the bar, admiring how orderly the collection of bottles were. Everything in its place with no awkward loose ends sticking out. 

He nearly jumped out if his skin as she sat down beside him and ordered a whiskey sour. She took a sip and grinned at him, "So, you're in charge of this place?"

He took another swallow of the scotch and regretted that it wasn't getting him drunk quick enough. "Sure am, doll. Something you needed?" 

"Well, I just wanted to say that this place is the best on the whole damn strip." She smiled dangerously and leaned forward. "I was let into the lucky 38, thinking that it would be a lot of fun seeing how exclusive it is but I'll be damned if it wasn't just the worst! Gomorrah was as shady as all get out and then I tried the Ultra Luxe. That was just too fucking creepy, but this place," She nodded raising her glass "Its perfect." He raised his glass and let it clink against hers.

"To this place." He was smiling now.

"To this place!" she agreed.

He looked into her eyes and saw a fierce intelligence there, and cunning. This dame was dangerous.

She went on, telling him about her sniper friend who had long since retired for some rest and she asked him many questions about the Boot Riders and The Tops. Since there was nothing Benny liked more than talking about himself, he obliged her. He even found her pretty charming. She really seemed to love life in Vegas until he steered her into talking about Mister House.

When he asked about it she just sighed and scrunched up her eyebrows in the cutest expression of exasperation he'd ever seen. "He just wasn't what I thought he'd be... Oh, but he did give me the suite there at the 38, so I guess I shouldn't be too upset."

She put her elbows on the bar and rested her chin in her hands "He was trying to recruit me in some sort of operation that had something to do with the package I had been carrying." She looked at him meaningfully "That's the funny thing though, he knew _all_ about my predicament in Goodsprings and he seemed pretty sure that it was _you_ who jumped me and nearly blew my brains out. So, I figured that if he knew what had happened _there_ he would have had to be right about who did it. So, I don't think he's _lyin'_ about it. So, the only question I have now is: What's your stake in all this?"

Benny dropped his glass on the floor and it shattered, sending a few servers running over to fix it.

She gave him a 24 carat smile like, _Checkmate!_ She leaned in so close that their noses were almost touching. "Ring-A-Ding-Ding, Baby." She raises her eyebrows like she was asking him what he was gonna do about it. 

He wanted to kiss her. He couldn't help it, he had to admire a platinum dame like her. She was smooth, clever and probably the prettiest broad form here to the Capital Wasteland.

He asked for another drink and told the barkeep that he'd pay for hers. "I guess I'm gonna have to apologize to ya, doll. Your'e a real scrapper and maybe I can finally get some sleep knowing that your'e still kicking. As for my plans I think we oughtta discuss those somewhere a little more private. I'll tell you what, as a show of good faith I'll give you the presidential suite, and we can talk it out there, ya dig?"

She stood, ran a hand over her dress to smooth it out and finished her drink. "I dig."

He winced, thinking of the shovel he'd used to bury her out there. He supposed that he probably should have been worrying about how decidedly calm she seemed about all of this. He'd gone and gave her a good knock in the head and she was ready to talk things out? Either she was just the forgiving sort, or she was the nuttiest broad he'd ever met. Maybe it was a little of both. He honestly couldn't tell.

Ether way this day had gotten _interesting_.     

 

 

 

 


End file.
